


Common Interests

by mardia



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: BDSM, Developing Relationship, F/M, Flogging, Fluff and Smut, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21728389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardia/pseuds/mardia
Summary: “Just wondering if you buy restraints from this place,” Dani says, nodding at the cuffs. “Look familiar?”Bright barely spares the cuffs a second glance; he just shrugs and says, “No, that shop’s over on the Upper West Side. I’ve got, uh, similar floggers at home though,” he adds, gesturing at the wall. “And they’ve got a good selection of nipple clamps here too, quite the variety…”It’s incredible how fast all the blood in Dani’s body rushes to her face.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Comments: 17
Kudos: 216
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Common Interests

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coaldustcanary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaldustcanary/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, coaldustcanary! I saw your Yuletide letter and loved the prompts you listed, particularly the one about Malcolm and Dani painstakingly developing a BDSM relationship and what that would look like. I wasn't able to fit all of the (awesome) prompts into this story, but I hope you enjoy!

_1 day:_

The funny part is that it’s Dani who starts the whole thing. 

If she’s honest, she’s a little on edge from the minute they walk into the sex shop, her eyes catching on the neatly organized toys on the shelves, vibrators and dildos and leather cuffs. It’s for a case, and Dani prides herself on being unflappable when it comes to the job, no matter what, and yet—her eyes keep being dragged away from the store owner and Bright, walking a few paces ahead of her through the aisles. 

When the store owner goes off to pull the records they need, Bright turns to look over at her, tilts his head, and says without hesitation, “You’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine,” Dani says, even though she knows by now that trying to lie to Bright is pointless. Looking for a distraction, she glances around and sees the deep brown leather cuffs that originally caught her eye, both for the gleam of the metal buckles and their odd...familiarity. 

“Just wondering if you buy restraints from this place,” Dani says, nodding at the cuffs. “Look familiar?”

Bright barely spares the cuffs a second glance; he just shrugs and says, “No, that shop’s over on the Upper West Side. I’ve got, uh, similar floggers at home though,” he adds, gesturing at the wall. “And they’ve got a good selection of nipple clamps here too, quite the variety…”

It’s incredible how fast all the blood in Dani’s body rushes to her face. 

And goddammit, of course Bright notices, glancing back from the nipple clamps to ask all innocently, “I’m sorry, was that too much infor—” And then, because of course this has to get even more awkward and embarrassing, he picks up on whatever tells she’s giving away and gets exactly the right impression from them, eyes going wide as he says, “Oh, I—oh!”

“Shut up, Bright,” Dani says, through gritted teeth. But because her brain has gone entirely rogue on her, she thinks of the ways she could _make_ him shut up, take a gag to his mouth, like the one he already has in his loft along with all the other sex toys he literally just admitted to owning—

Bright, of course, isn’t shutting up now, stepping a little closer as he says in a low whisper, “Sorry, I didn’t, uh—I mean, do you have _questions_ about—”

Dani’s mouth tightens and she hisses back, “We are not talking about this right now.”

“But we can talk about this later?” Bright asks, honing in like a missile on that opening. His eyes are luminous in this lighting, his entire expression alight with interest, with focus, and all of it for Dani. 

Dani’s face is even hotter now, and she should shut this down, she _should_ , if she did Malcolm would leave it alone, he’d drop it for good. 

And knowing that is why Dani gives a tight little nod, turning away just as the shop owner arrives, full of apologies and the records of past sales they’re looking for. 

She doesn’t have to look behind her to know that Malcolm’s smiling, thrilled by something that doesn’t involve murder for once. 

_3 days:_

“So, what are your previous experiences with BDSM?”

“I don’t have any,” Dani says automatically. 

Malcolm just waits her out, and Dani squirms in her seat. For once, Malcolm’s got the lights on in his place, and the bright glow in the kitchen is both welcoming and off-putting. Kind of like Malcolm, as a matter of fact. “I mean, I know what—what I like. Usually that’s me being in charge, in control.”

She quickly takes a sip of the Earl Grey tea that Malcolm has made for this “chat”. Christ this should be awkward—and it is, but it’s not as bad as it could be. Bright’s such an oddball, so far from anything that Dani knows as normal and ordinary, that confessing strange things to him is easy to do. 

Plus there’s the other thing. Dani looks at Malcolm’s handsome face and soft mouth and inwardly sighs, even as she presses her thighs together, forcing back the wave of heat between her legs. 

If Bright can read Dani’s reaction—and who is she kidding, of course he can—he at least doesn’t give any sign of it. “Okay, so you’ve never had any formal experience but you’re...interested, would that be correct?”

“That...would be correct,” Dani confirms, clearing her throat. 

“Well,” Malcolm says, clapping his hands together for emphasis, “I have a plethora of implements we can look at together, if you like!” Dani’s eyes go wide, and Malcolm quickly adds, “Don’t worry, they’ve all been thoroughly sanitized.”

“Yeah, I would hope so,” Dani says blankly, still trying to catch up—she hadn’t thought Malcolm would jump right in like this, but then, what are they doing here if not going for it?

So, intrigued and still a little apprehensive, Dani follows Malcolm to the drawers underneath that still-unsettling weapons display. As Malcolm bends down to open the drawers where he apparently keeps all the sex stuff, Dani asks, curious, “Have you ever used any of these weapons for, uh, BDSM stuff?”

“Occasionally,” Malcolm admitted, with way more nonchalance than she’d expect from most people admitting to that. “Typically knifeplay isn’t my thing, though—can’t turn my brain off to buy into the fantasy. It’s too easy to tell the other person won’t really cause me any harm.”

“Huh,” Dani says. “Yeah, I...guess that would be a problem.”

Malcolm finally emerges with first one, and then two medium-sized wooden chests that he carefully sets down on the floor. Her heartbeat starting to pick up, Dani carefully kneels down next to him, resting her hands in loose fists on her thighs. 

“So,” Bright says, flipping the lids open. “Here it is.”

Dani stares down at the collection, her mind going blank for one moment. Before she comes back to herself, she instinctively reaches out to one of the chests to root through it, her hand pausing in mid-air when she realizes that’s a little bit presumptive, to go digging through someone else’s sex toys without permission.

But when she glances over to Malcolm, he’s smiling and nodding, saying, “Go ahead, it’s fine.”

So Dani carefully starts to pick through the first chest, confirming that yes, Bright does have nipple clamps. Several pairs, in fact. There’s a leather riding crop, carefully coiled rope, and—

“Is this some kind of whip?” Dani asks, lifting up the black, leather, many-tailed whip...thing by the handle. It’s heavier than she expects it to be, but the handle fits easily in her hand. 

“Yeah, it’s a flogger,” Malcolm says, leaning in a little closer. “That one’s made out of moose hide, actually.”

Dani turns her head to look at him, and Malcolm just blinks back placidly. “Moose?” she asks, incredulous. “What, regular cow leather isn’t good enough for you?”

“The material matters!” Malcolm insists. “It affects the sensation—moose is far more of a thuddier feeling, whereas if you use suede or horsehair, you get far more of a sting—”

Dani’s watching Malcolm’s face as he enthusiastically elaborates on the positives of moose vs elk hide when it comes to sex floggers, with a digression into his flogger made of bull hide, which apparently offers an entirely different intensity—

“So is this what you like?” Dani interrupts, her heart pounding as she tests the weight of the flogger in her hand. “That...thud feeling?”

“Sure, I—” Malcolm begins, but cuts himself off, blue eyes going huge in his face. “Uh. That’s not a rhetorical question. Is it?”

Dani licks at her dry lips. “No, it’s not.” As Malcolm’s eyes go even wider at that confirmation, Dani asks, “Are you...actually surprised?”

Malcolm sits back on his heels, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Uh...yes, I very much am. I noticed the signs of physical attraction, of course, I just…”

Dani inhales, and lets it out slowly. “It’s okay if the answer’s no,” she says, evenly. “All you have to do is say.”

Malcolm jerks at that, holding up his hands as he blurts out, “No, I mean, _yes_ , yes I would like to.” A dazed, disbelieving smile is starting to flicker across his face. “I...wow, I just did not see this coming.”

Even as she’s starting to smile in relief, Dani has to ask, “What, the famous profiler can’t figure out when someone’s attracted to him?”

“Someone having a momentary physical attraction to me doesn’t mean that they want to do anything about it,” Malcolm says, before coughing as he adds, “I’ve uh, been told that having a face like mine is...a waste.” At Dani’s baffled look, he elaborates, “Because of the personality and issues attached to it.”

“Wow,” Dani says as she takes that in. “Whoever said that to you deserves to get punched in their stupid mouth.” She just barely holds herself back from offering to do the punching herself. 

Malcolm bursts out laughing, ducking his head for a moment. “Thanks. Thanks for that.” His smile goes a little crooked and unsure as he asks, “Are you sure?”

Dani takes a beat, but her voice is steady as she says, “Yeah, I trust you.” She takes a breath and reaches out, and Malcolm inhales softly as she takes his chin in her fingers and lifts it up just a fraction, feeling his stubble scrape against the pad of her thumb. “Do you trust me, Malcolm?”

Malcolm’s eyes are very blue and dazed as he looks at her. “Yeah, I do,” he says, voice soft, before a corner of his mouth lifts. “Haven’t managed to scare you off yet, so.”

“Malcolm,” Dani murmurs, leaning in just a little bit closer to see the way that Malcolm’s eyelashes flutter momentarily as she approaches. “Trust me when I say I’ve seen far scarier things than you.”

_1 month:_

The chains rattle a little as Malcolm tugs on them, the metal gleaming in the light. There’s enough give in the chains from where they’re attached to the ceiling beams that there won’t be too much strain on Malcolm’s shoulders. Just enough. 

He can’t see Dani from where she’s standing behind him, but she can most certainly see him, and she is enjoying the view—Malcolm chained to the ceiling, stripped down to his black boxer briefs, the muscles in his back moving with every breath he takes, every time he shifts his weight. 

Dani’s also stripped down to her underwear—nothing fancy, just her sports bra and plain gray briefs, but it doesn’t matter; she’s not the one on display, not like Malcolm is. 

She’s been quiet for long enough that Malcolm’s starting to get restless. He tips his head back and murmurs, over the music playing softly on the speakers, “Dani, come on.”

Dani tilts her head and remarks, “I missed the part where this is happening on _your_ schedule.” The first time they’d done this, she’d been too focused, too on-edge to engage in much banter, but she’s starting to relax into it now. 

“If we keep going on your schedule, I’ll be waiting for the heat-death of the universe,” Malcolm sasses back, turning his head back to her just enough that she can catch the corner of his smile. He turns away, still saying, “Just go ahead and—”

Dani snaps her wrist without warning, and the tails of her flogger make a satisfying _thwack_ as she strikes Malcolm’s thigh. Malcolm jerks in his chains, a small grunt escaping him, but he stops talking. 

Dani starts a steady rhythm from there, warming him up, focusing the blows on his thighs and ass to begin with. Malcolm stays stubbornly silent at first, even as his breathing starts to get louder; it’s not until Dani steps back and aims a particularly stinging strike along his thigh that Malcolm hisses out, “Jesus.”

“Want a break?” Dani taunts, knowing he won’t take her up on it, that he’s not even close. 

Malcolm quickly shakes his head, emphatic. “Don’t,” he mumbles. “Don’t stop.” 

For that, Dani rewards him with a blow to his back, which she’s mostly avoided until now, having seen too many warnings about the damage a flogger can do to the spine or the kidneys. Malcolm groans at that, loud and raw, and Dani’s breath catches in her throat—before she pulls her arm back, winds up, and hits Malcolm again. 

“Oh God,” she hears him say, his voice hoarse, and that’s when he finally, finally gives it up for her, crying out at each blow, squirming in the chains as his back and thighs redden. Dani bites at her own lips to keep from saying anything else, from letting her own breathing go ragged, because all she wants to hear right now is Malcolm losing it—his sobbing breaths, his low cries as the flogger hits his bare skin, the way his voice cracks as he says her name, over and over again. 

Finally, once Malcolm’s skin has flushed to a shade of rose that doesn’t look like it’ll fade any time soon, Dani takes an unsteady step back and says, breathless, “Okay, I’m calling it. Malcolm, green, yellow, red?”

“Green,” Malcolm says dreamily, as Dani shakes out her arm. “So...so green. I’m _great._ ”

“Yeah?” Dani prods, coming around to look at his face; there are tear tracks on his cheeks and his eyelashes are wet, but his pupils are blown and his expression is dreamy, dazed. 

Her throat growing tight, Dani reaches out and wipes at his cheek, her hand curving around his face. “You still with me, babe?” The endearment slips out naturally, and Malcolm’s long eyelashes flutter as he looks at her. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, leaning forward. “Yeah, I’m with you.”

Dani kisses him softly at first, their lips just brushing together. But then Malcolm makes a soft noise against her mouth, and before Dani can realize what she’s doing, she’s wrapped herself around Malcolm and is kissing him for all she’s worth. 

Finally she pulls back, murmuring, “We should get you down.”

“Okay,” Malcolm agrees, and then says, right as Dani’s reaching for the first cuff, “Can I go down on you?”

Dani pauses, staring at him, but Malcolm just blinks back at her, and that’s how, less than two minutes later, Dani ends up on the hardwood floor of Malcolm’s loft, staring blindly up at the ceiling, her hands knotted up in Malcolm’s soft hair as he carefully licks at her clit, two fingers crooked just so inside of her. All the words that Dani kept locked up inside of her earlier are spilling out of her now, as she feverishly tugs on Malcolm’s hair and grits out, “Jesus, keep going, don’t you dare stop—”

But Malcolm keeps going, relentless, right up until Dani’s pushed over the edge, gasping, her hands going brutally tight in Malcolm’s hair as she comes. 

In the aftermath, as Dani’s still catching her breath, Malcolm wriggles up until he’s lying on his side next to her, wiping at his mouth. “Good?” he asks—he’s still in the habit of checking up on her after a session, as though she’s going to run away screaming at any second.

“I should ask you that,” Dani says, glancing over at him. “Went pretty hard on your back there.”

Malcolm shakes his head a little. His hair’s a wreck, strands of it falling across his forehead, making him look younger than usual. “No, it was good, it was...exactly what I wanted.”

Dani feels the heat rushing to her face at this, and turns away. “It’s warmer in here than usual,” she remarks next, mostly for something to say. 

“Turned the heat up,” Malcolm says sleepily. “You had goosebumps last time.”

“Yeah?” Dani asks, touched by this somehow. 

“Of course,” Malcolm says, giving her a sweet smile. Dani smiles back, and leans in to kiss him, not to start anything, just because she wants to. 

The floor is cool and hard beneath her, and soon they’ll have to get up, put everything away, and Dani will go to the guest bedroom upstairs (Malcolm’s still not up for sharing a bed, but is too much of a gentleman to kick her out), but for right now—staying here is just fine.

_5 months:_

“Can I say that I’m still not sure this is a great idea?” Malcolm asks, obviously trying to keep his voice light, but the anxiety comes through anyway. 

Dani looks at him from where she’s dropping her overnight bag on Malcolm’s bed, and concedes easily, “Sure, you can say that. You can even call it off, if you want to.”

Malcolm grimaces. “My therapist thinks it’s a good idea,” he says. 

“Your therapist is pretty smart,” Dani agrees, still nonchalant and relaxed. “And you’re paying her a lot of money for her advice—even if you can afford it.”

Malcolm snorts, which is what Dani was going for. “You could just say that you also think this is a great idea.”

“I mean, I do,” Dani says, pointedly sitting down at the edge of Malcolm’s bed—the bed she’ll be sharing with Malcolm tonight. “Thought that was pretty obvious.”

She leans her weight back on her elbows, lounging, and waits Malcolm out. 

“What if I hurt you?” Malcolm asks at last. Dani can still hear the question he’s not asking out loud: _What if I scare you off?_

“I’m a tough girl, I can take it,” Dani says. “And it might work out, you know. You haven’t had a night terror in over a month, your meds are working, the new routine is good—and even you admit you sleep better when you know I’m around.” Not to mention he hasn’t seen or spoken to his asshole serial killer dad in three months.

The unhappy line between Malcolm’s eyebrows doesn’t fade, and Dani sighs and goes on to the second part of her speech. “And if you have a night terror, then I’ll be able to wake you up.” She adds a overly-sweet smile as she says next, “With a punch to the jaw if I have to.”

Malcolm finally, finally chuckles at that, saying, “Oh, well then I’m sure to get a decent night’s sleep.”

“Obviously,” Dani says, and gives him a wink, enjoying the blush that rises up to Malcolm’s cheeks in response. 

It’s a good evening, overall. After dinner, Malcolm even agrees to watch the Knicks game with her on TV, and Dani nearly coughs out a lung when Malcolm mentions idly that his mom knows (and apparently can’t stand) the team’s owner. “Jesus, you’re that kind of rich?”

“We’re not,” Malcolm insists. “We’re old money that sneers at the new money...who also happen to have more money than us.” 

“So you couldn’t buy the team if you felt like it,” Dani says.

“Definitely not,” Malcolm confirms, and then grimaces as the Knicks have yet another costly turnover. “Though God knows my mother couldn’t do worse as the team owner.” He turns to Dani and says, “You know, when Gil made me sit through baseball games, at least the Yankees had the decency to _win_ most of the time.”

Dani, a long-time (and long-suffering) Mets fan, can’t let that slide, and the rest of the game devolves into a play-wrestling match that finally ends with Dani pinning Malcolm’s wrists to the couch and kissing him quiet, her teeth nipping at his lips. 

Malcolm sighs and rocks his hips up against hers, murmuring, “So...I’m suddenly a lot more interested in going to bed.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Dani laughs, and scrambles up to her feet, taking Malcolm’s hand as they go to the bed. 

And it’s good, Dani breaks out the nipple clamps and happily takes Malcolm apart while she rides him, Malcolm gasping and pleading the entire time, but afterwards—afterwards Dani comes out of the bathroom to find Malcolm holding one of his cuffs with a pensive look on his face. He sets it down as Dani approaches, and Dani says, very gently, “You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, right?”

“I know,” Malcolm says, giving her a quick smile. He takes a deep breath, and carefully sets the restraints down on the floor, where they’ll hopefully stay for the rest of the night.

Malcolm climbs into bed and gets under the sheets, then pauses. “Do you have a preferred side of the bed?” he asks, a little anxiously.

Dani smiles. “I’ll take the right.” Malcolm shifts over, and Dani climbs into the bed after him, the sheets soft and cool against her bare legs. 

Once she’s settled in, Malcolm says thoughtfully, staring up at the ceiling, “I should give you a warning—” and Dani braces herself, but Malcolm just goes on thoughtfully, “I have absolutely no idea whether or not I snore.”

Dani snickers, and Malcolm grins at her, pleased with himself.

*

It’s not a very restful night. Honestly, Dani didn’t expect it to be.

They do get to sleep eventually, Malcolm’s body a warm weight all along Dani’s side. Sometime in the middle of the night, Dani groggily wakes up to the sound of Malcolm whimpering in his sleep, quiet, heartbreaking sounds that are impossible to miss.

“Shh,” Dani murmurs, still groggy with sleep herself, curling an arm around Malcolm and coming in closer to him. “Shh, baby, it’s okay.”

Malcolm curls into her, still mostly asleep himself, his arms wrapping around her tightly, and Dani drowsily presses a kiss to the side of his face and drifts off to sleep. 

The pattern repeats itself once or twice more during the night, but that’s all—no screams, no wild thrashing or flailing limbs. 

Dani even wakes up before Malcolm does, and even once she’s fully awake she still hesitates to get up until she’s sure that Malcolm is still out cold. 

Smiling quietly to herself, Dani carefully slips out from under Malcolm’s outstretched arm and gets out of bed. “Morning, Sunshine,” Dani murmurs at the parakeet, who chirps brightly in response, as she starts setting up the electric kettle to make herself some tea. 

Right as Dani’s digging around for the jar of Earl Grey, she hears someone turning a key in the locks to the front door. 

Dani whirls around, jar in hand, as several thoughts race through her head—first being that she’s unarmed (but with plenty of potential weapons in easy reach). Second, that’s she’s not wearing anything but an oversized sleep shirt that still barely reaches mid-thigh, and third, who the _fuck_ else has a key to Malcolm’s apartment?

The door opens, and it’s Jessica Whitly—Malcolm’s _mother_ —who’s at the door, taking only a couple steps forward before she sees Dani, still frozen in the kitchen. Mrs. Whitly’s eyes go comically wide as she looks from Dani to Malcolm’s bed, where Malcolm is _still_ peacefully sleeping away. 

Mrs. Whitly gapes at the scene, then at Dani, before turning and slipping out the door far more quietly than should be possible for someone wearing heels that high. 

Dani remains still for one more second, then hastily scurries over to the front door, where she quietly opens it and steps out into the hallway.

Thankfully, Mrs. Whitly hasn’t gone anywhere; she’s still standing in the hallway, giant bag in hand—is that food?—with that slightly stunned expression still on her face. 

“Mrs. Whitly,” Dani starts, with absolutely no idea how she’s going to continue that sentence, but thankfully Malcolm’s mother holds up her hand. 

“Please, this is entirely my fault,” she says, smiling, with more grace and poise than Dani would’ve thought possible. “My children despair of me when it comes to respecting their privacy, but this will...definitely teach me a lesson.” She visibly hesitates, looking at Dani oddly, before asking next, “Can I just—Malcolm was actually asleep, just now? I wasn’t hallucinating that?”

“Yeah, he’s asleep,” Dani confirms. 

“And he’s not drugged or sedated or injured or—” Mrs. Whitly continues, still in clear disbelief. 

“Um, nope,” Dani says. “No, no injuries or sedatives here.” The thought crosses across her mind that she’s not _that_ kinky, and Dani hastily clamps her lips together before letting anything like that slip through.

“Huh,” Mrs. Whitly says. “Well, how about that. I see Malcolm and I have a _great_ number of things to discuss.” The expression on her face is momentarily alarming for Dani, before she remembers that Malcolm has to be used to dealing with his mother at this point. And she’s definitely going to leave him to it. 

But then Mrs. Whitly’s smile softens, and she says to Dani, “But I do apologize for barging in on you like that, truly.” She hands Dani the extra-large takeout bag, packages shifting inside as Dani takes the handle. “Here—freshly-baked croissants from Malcolm’s favorite breakfast place, along with maple butter, various jams, a delicious salmon spread, and of course a variety of fresh fruit to go along with it.”

“Oh, uh,” Dani says, letting herself take a peek inside. The croissants smell delicious. “Thanks, Mrs. Whitly.”

“Please, I’m the one who interrupted your morning before you even had a chance to get dressed, call me Jessica.”

Dani’s mouth twitches. “Well, anyone who brings me fresh croissants gets to call me Dani.”

Jessica beams at her, looking honestly delighted, and right then, Dani can easily see the resemblance between her and her son. “Dani. Please tell Malcolm to answer his phone, and assure him that you have a standing invitation to our weekly family dinners.”

“Oh, I—” Dani starts, but Jessica is already sailing down the flight of stairs. 

“Standing invitation!” Jessica calls back merrily over her shoulder. 

Dani blinks at her retreating figure, finally heading back in before anyone else shows up unexpectedly and catches Dani while she’s not wearing any pants. 

By the time that Malcolm wakes up, Dani is halfway through her second croissant, and debating whether she wants to have a third. 

He sits up drowsily in bed, pushing the hair off his face as he gives her a sweet, sleepy smile. “Morning. Did I snore?”

“Nope,” Dani says, smiling at him. “And at no point did I need to sock you in the jaw.”

Malcolm grins, and only then notices the giant spread of food Dani’s set out. “Did you order something? I didn’t hear the delivery person arrive.”

“No, your mom was pretty quiet when she dropped the food off,” Dani says blandly. 

The look on Malcolm’s face is so priceless that Dani’s fingers are practically twitching to grab her phone and get a photo. “I’m sorry, my mom did _what_?”

“Stopped by with croissants,” Dani confirms. “Nice lady, good taste in food.” As Malcolm continues to gape at her, Dani takes another delicious, showy bite of her croissant, slathered in butter and jam. 

_5 months and 1 week:_

“So,” Malcolm says, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Do we want to talk about the fact that Gil almost certainly knows about us?”

Dani grimaces, her eyes falling shut. It’s not that she hasn’t noticed the significant looks that Gil has been giving her and Malcolm over the past week, it’s that she’s been deep in denial about what they likely meant. “Think we’ve been that indiscreet?” she asks. 

“No, I think my mother likely called Gil up and asked some very indiscreet questions,” Malcolm says. “And Gil, being a good cop, took two and two and made four.” He gives Dani a look and adds, very casually, “She says the standing invitation to dinner is still valid, by the way.”

Dani blinks, putting her glass down. “Do you...want me to take your mom up on that invitation?”

Malcolm gives her an innocent look and takes another sip of his whiskey, which is absolutely not an answer and Dani opens her mouth to press him on it, but she gets interrupted when a very familiar voice calls out, “Dani!”

Oh shit. “Oh shit,” Dani says automatically, lifting her head to see, yup, Malik—her stepbrother Malik—walking over in the direction of what Dani _thought_ was a discreet booth in this fancy hipster bar. 

“Wait, who is this?” Malcolm asks, curiously. 

“My brother,” Dani mutters out of the corner of her mouth. “I’m sorry in advance.”

Malcolm looks even more baffled by this, but Malik is already in front of them, IPA in hand, his face alight with curiosity as he looks from Malcolm to Dani. “Hey Dani. How’s my favorite sibling doing?”

“I’m your only sibling, and I’m good, thanks,” Dani says, very dryly. Malik looks to Malcolm and waits her out, and Dani breathes out through her nose, and adds, “Malcolm, this is my brother Malik. Malik, Malcolm.”

“Nice to meet you,” Malcolm says graciously, reaching out across the table to shake Malik’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Malcolm,” Malik says, sliding right into the other side of the booth. “So how do y’all know each other?”

“Through work,” Dani says, giving Malik a warning look that she already knows won’t do any good. 

“Okay,” Malik says. “So is this a work thing that I’ve gotten in the middle of?”

Malcolm glances over at Dani, who’s just glaring at her brother. “No, no,” Malcolm says, mouth twitching. “No, this is a totally normal date that you’re crashing.”

Malik, damn him, is completely unabashed by this. “Well, what do you know? My sister, hermit-no-more?”

“Boy, if you don’t stop,” Dani warns, but with no hope it’ll actually work on her lunkhead of a brother, given that it never has before. Not unless the threat of a fist to the face came with it, anyway. 

“Stop what, I’m just asking the man a question,” Malik says, putting on his best innocent face. 

“You are being nosy as hell,” Dani corrects him, because Malik is one of the absolute worst gossips in the family and loves nothing more than to get a rise out of her. “Don’t act like you’re not.”

Malik, not having a defense to this, just keeps going on the offensive. “Okay, but answer me this,” he says, pointing a finger at Malcolm. “Has my sister met any of your family yet?” Malcolm’s half-second of hesitation is all that Malik needs, as he snaps his fingers and exclaims, “Well, would you look at that.”

“Look at _what_ , nothing’s happening,” Dani says, exasperated. 

“Something’s gonna happen when Mom and Dad find out you’ve been dating a guy for long enough that you’re meeting _his_ folks, but you still haven’t introduced him to _your_ folks.”

“Stop making this into a conspiracy,” Dani tells him, even as Malcolm, the traitor, hides his laughter behind his hand. 

“Oh, there’s no conspiracy?” Malik asks, his face full of disbelief. He turns to Malcolm and asks, “So, how long have y’all been dating, exactly?”

Malcolm looks from her, to Malik, and then back again, before admitting slowly, eyes wide, “I feel like I should be pleading the Fifth here.”

“How is that helpful,” Dani demands, gesturing at him, even as Malik crows, “Oooh, I knew it.”

“Knew what, you didn’t know shit,” Dani says in exasperation, and it just devolves from there, Malcolm holding back laughter as Dani and Malik snipe at each other, Malik trying to get a rise out of Dani and mostly succeeding, Dani trying to parry his probing questions and mostly failing. 

Finally Malik decides he’s had enough—or rather, that he’s gotten enough dirt that he can call it a night. “Listen, I gotta get back to my friends,” he says, finally getting out of the booth. “Malcolm, great to finally meet you. Dani, I _will_ be telling the whole family about your new man, expect the group text to blow up in the next 24 hours.”

Dani solemnly raises her hands, middle fingers extended, and Malik just laughs, the little punk, and scampers off. He’s probably sending the text to their parents as he’s walking away, too. 

She turns to Malcolm, whose face is pink with suppressed laughter, and says, “So that was my idiot brother.”

“I gathered,” Malcolm says, finally breaking into laughter. “I liked him, I thought he was nice,” he adds, between chuckles. 

“He’s a gossipy little punk,” Dani says, emphatic, and Malcolm just breaks down laughing again. It’s a good look on him, Dani can’t help but enjoy it. 

“As someone with his own very nosy relatives, I can’t throw any stones,” Malcolm tells her, still smiling. 

“He’ll be living off this for months,” Dani says with an eyeroll, and at Malcolm’s inquiring look, explains, “I tend to...keep things close to my chest, with my family.”

“Oh?” Malcolm says, and this is one of the things about him, how he leaves an opening for Dani to elaborate or evade, however she wants to play it. 

“Ever since my stint in Narcotics...and my stint in rehab...I kind of have a policy of carefully choosing what I want to fill my family in on,” Dani says, very carefully. “Recently they’ve been pushing back on that more, which I get, but...” Dani shrugs. “I love them, but it can be complicated, you know?”

“I know,” Malcolm says, and Dani could kiss him for the way he says it without judgment. And so she does. 

Malik is true to his word, and Dani’s phone starts blowing up at eight am the next morning with text after text, from aunts and cousins and her parents. Dani looks at the messages, pauses, and then types out—

_Malik, you need to mind your business. Everybody else, yes, his name is Malcolm, yes, I like him, and yes, we’ve been seeing each other for a few months. Now can you chill?_

Her family cannot, as it turns out, chill. Dani still finds herself minding it less than she would have, a year ago.

During a quiet moment at the precinct, as Malcolm’s taking his place at the corner of her desk they’ve cleared for him to do his work, Dani pauses before leaning in and asking him, “So do you want me to take your mom up on it?”

Malcolm looks at her, and then smiles a little bit and shrugs. “Standing invitation, remember?”

“Okay, cool,” Dani says, taking a breath. “So Friday it is.”

Malcolm bends over his paperwork, but his smile is still obvious. “Should I clear my calendar to meet any more of the Powell clan?”

Dani snorts. “Let’s give them a few weeks to calm down first. My brother’s got them all worked up.”

She feels someone watching, and turns her head just in time to see Gil standing in the doorway to his office, watching her and Malcolm with an unreadable look on his face, before he turns away to talk to someone walking past.

Dani looks away, resolving to deal with it later.

She doesn’t get a real opening until everyone’s heading home for the night—Malcolm’s waiting for her by the elevators, and once she grabs her coat, Dani takes the chance to duck into Gil’s office, pulling the door shut behind her.

Gil looks up, mildly startled. “Hey Dani, what’s up?”

Her heartbeat starting to speed up, Dani goes ahead and plunges forward. “There anything you want to ask me? About me and Malcolm?”

Gil leans back in his seat, visibly surprised. He considers it, and then asks her, “Is he good to you?”

Dani blinks but immediately says, “Yes.”

“You good to him?” Gil asks next, dark eyes steady as he watches her.

“Yes,” Dani says, straightening her shoulders.

“Then that’s all I need to know,” Gil says with a shrug, but he’s smiling at her now, easy and relaxed, the Gil she knows and trusts, and who trusts her in return.

“Oh,” Dani says, taking that in. After a minute, Gil politely waiting her out, she nods briskly and says, “Okay. Good talk.”

Gil grins and turns back to his reports. “Yeah, good talk. Night, Dani.”

_1 year:_

“There is no reason to panic,” Dani says in a low voice, staring up at Malcolm’s ceiling. 

“No reason at all,” Malcolm agrees from where he’s lying next to her on the bed. He doesn’t sound particularly convincing, but neither does Dani. “My mother adores you—she’ll do everything to make this go well.”

“My parents like you,” Dani says, and she’s only saying the truth. Her parents do like Malcolm, each time she’s brought him over for dinner—even if they’re more than a little baffled that a rich white boy from the Upper East Side is her choice for a serious boyfriend, not to mention the tragic family backstory. “And I’ve made my parents and Malik swear to behave.”

Malcolm gives her a skeptical look. “Out of everyone that’s going to be at my mother’s Thanksgiving table, it’s not your family I’m worried about.”

Dani hums and doesn’t answer—she’s made a point of insisting, both to her parents and a very curious Malik, that if they had questions about the Whitly family that was fine, but that she was going to be the only person they could ask. 

_“Since when do we need to be told how to behave?” her stepmom Sharon had asked, indignant._

_“You don’t,” Dani says, before nodding at Malik. “He absolutely does, though.”_

_“Hey!” Malik protested._

_“Look, it’s a wild story,” Dani continued. “I get it, I get it if you have questions, that’s fine. Just—it’s not some wild story to Malcolm and his family, it’s their lives. And I don’t want them to feel like they’re being gawked at, not in their own home, not again. Please?”_

Her family had agreed, even Malik, and Dani trusts them, they’re good people—but Dani’s still stressed out anyway. Her parents are normal people, her brother is normal—and the Whitlys, as much as Dani’s getting to know and like them, are definitely not normal. 

Dani feels Malcolm’s arm moving, and when she looks over, he’s twisting his right hand in his left—trying to hide the tremor. He catches her watching, and offers a rueful smile. “I don’t suppose we can cancel Thanksgiving, can we? Sudden outbreak of something highly contagious, maybe—the flu! Or the plague!”

“We’re not going to fake having the plague,” Dani says. “My parents have been looking forward to this for weeks—we’re skipping Thanksgiving at my grandma’s for this. And I know your mom’s been prepping like crazy for having us over too.”

Malcolm makes a small noise of discontent, and concedes, “I haven’t seen her this excited about an event since the last time she attended the Met Gala.” At Dani’s incredulous look, Malcolm adds, “She hasn’t been there in years, of course. Says it’s gone downhill ever since Anna Wintour took over. Too many celebrities.”

“Oh, of course,” Dani says, deadpan, and Malcolm beams at her. 

His smile fades, and he swallows before asking, “What if this doesn’t go well?”

“Then we have a super awkward Thanksgiving,” Dani says. “It won’t kill us.” She pauses and adds, “Might have to kill Malik if he acts the fool though.” As Malcolm reluctantly chuckles, Dani leans in to drop a quick kiss on his mouth before getting off the bed. “Come on, I want to practice with some rope tonight.”

They’ve expanded into rope play the last few months, and it’s been an interesting change of pace—Dani was impatient with it at first, but has grown to like the meditative quality to it, taking her time with the patterns and knots. And the visual is...something spectacular. 

Dani turns to look at Malcolm, still getting off the bed, and she smiles, before telling him casually, “Go ahead and take your clothes off for me.”

As Malcolm reaches for his tie, Dani adds, “And don’t rush. Give me a show.”

The lighting is good enough (thanks to Dani insisting on actually turning the lights on when they’re at Malcolm’s place) that she can see the sudden flush rising to Malcolm’s face, but he listens, slowing down as he carefully works his tie loose, pulling it free in a slow glide before letting it drop to the floor. 

His gaze is lowered, and as good a look as it is for him (eyelashes swept low, his face tilted just so) Dani still wants him to be looking at _her_. 

“Malcolm. Look at me.”

Malcolm lifts his face at that, startled, and Dani gives him a slow smile, meant to reassure—up to a point. 

Malcolm’s blush only deepens, but he’s smiling back as his hands move to the buttons of his vest. 

It’s a good show. Not just because he’s beautiful, although Malcolm is, obviously. It’s the fact that his shoulders are straight instead of hunched up protectively, his posture is relaxed and open, he’s meeting her eyes and staying calm and steady, even in the middle of a striptease Dani ordered him to do. 

It’s a display of trust that could overwhelm Dani, if she lets it. 

“Should I do a little dance?” Malcolm offers next, working at the cufflinks to his shirt. 

“Do you have the range to pull off a Magic Mike moment here, Bright?” Dani asks. 

Malcolm holds his expression steady for exactly half a second before breaking, laughing as he says, “No, not at all. I’m pretty okay at ballroom dancing though, had lessons as a kid.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Foxtrot, waltz, swing,” Malcolm says, before adding faux-casually, “And I’m pretty good at tango.” He’s unbuttoning his shirt now, his white undershirt being revealed as he pulls the tails of his shirt free from his belted waist. 

Dani’s mouth goes a little dry, both at the visual in front of her now and the visual in her own head, Malcolm dancing the tango with some faceless figure, poised and confident, legs stretching out as—

She coughs and says, casually, “I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

Malcolm grins at her, the little punk, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “No, I didn’t think you would mind,” he agrees, as he lets his shirt drop to the hardwood floor, hands moving to the buckle of his belt.

*

Getting the rope pattern right is a process, and one that takes a long time. Dani’s opted for a complicated design, looping and weaving the black rope up Malcolm’s bare chest, binding his crossed arms together so that they lie flat over his chest.

Malcolm’s pliant beneath her hands, blue eyes dreamy as he slips into that headspace where he could joyfully endure almost anything Dani asked him to.

Once Dani’s finished with the rope, looping it carefully around Malcolm’s throat and leaving the ends free to dangle down his spine, she reaches out and grips his elbows as she helps him up to his feet, Malcolm awkward and clumsy without his arms free to help him balance

She leads Malcolm to the couch and pushes him back against the cushions, saying quietly, “Stay there.” As Malcolm watches her quietly, Dani quickly strips out of her clothes, dropping them carelessly on the floor next to her. 

She pauses for a moment there, her skin prickling in the cool air, the ache building low in her stomach, slickness gathering between her legs. 

“You going to do anything, or are you just going to leave me here?” Malcolm asks. His cock is erect and curved upwards, flushed and wet at the tip. 

“I could leave you there,” Dani muses. “But I think I’m going to get some use out of you instead.”

She straddles his hips, her cunt brushing against his cock. Dani grinds against him a little, to make Malcolm groan and buck up against her, pleading, hot sparks running through her as she does. 

But finally, Dani relents and sinks down onto his cock, the stretch of him hot and thick inside of her, and she holds his face in her hands and kisses Malcolm, swallowing up every desperate noise he makes. She keeps riding him, keeps _using_ him, feeling the braided rope brushing against her nipples, her skin becoming slick with sweat, bracing herself above Malcolm with her hands pressed against the back of the couch for leverage, caging Malcolm in. 

“Dani,” Malcolm groans against her mouth, “Dani, please, I can’t—”

She slips a hand down to her clit and rubs, hard, and that’s what pushes her over the edge, as she comes with a gasp, clenching around Malcolm’s cock. He follows her soon after, groaning, head tilted back, the long line of his throat exposed, the black rope a beautiful contrast to his pale skin.

Still panting for breath, Dani reaches out to smooth Malcolm’s ruffled hair, pushing the strands back from his face. Even after his hair is back in order, Dani keeps touching it, the repetitive motions soothing to her in some way she can’t describe. Malcolm leans into it, eyes closed, pliant and trusting. 

She’s not the one still tied up, but her throat feels oddly tight anyway. Dani clears her throat, and the words slip out, almost unconsciously. “I love you, you know that.”

Malcolm opens his eyes, staring up at her, before a slow, radiantly happy smile starts to spread across his face. And as joy rises up inside of Dani like an ocean tide, she’s already perfectly sure of what he’s going to say in response.


End file.
